The Cowgirl gets her wish.

You struggle to rise, trying with every bit of strength that hasn’t been beaten out of you to push yourself up off the ground. You reach out for the top rope to try to use it for support, but the Cowgirl playfully smacks it away, shaking a finger at you. “Naughty, naughty. Those ain’t the rules.”

As you lay prostrate at her feet, you realize that she hasn’t given you a time limit. You expected her to start counting to ten or twenty. But then it hits you: she knows it doesn’t matter. She could count to a thousand and you’d still be lying here, beaten and submissive.

You collapse back to the ground in defeat, bracing yourself for her domination. She giggles. “Awww, that’s cute. Well, at least ya tried. Points for effort, but that doesn’t mean you’re gonna get out of this.”

So saying, she flips you over so that you’re lying on your back and straddles your head, blowing kisses to the crowd. You can only watch helplessly as her eager, wet pussy descends onto your mouth.

Dinah moans in satisfaction as she begins her facesit and stares down at you through her sparkling blue eyes. She wastes no time in taking her pleasure from you, pumping her hips and bouncing up and down; the thin cloth her panties are made of does next to nothing to keep her juices from dripping onto your lips and tongue.

“Mmmm, yeah,” she exults as she grinds away. “Those cute little eyes of yours just peeking out from under my pussy...knowing there ain’t nothin’ you can do to stop me from shoving your face right in between these legs and keepin’ it there for as long as I please...it’s just about the sexiest thing in the whole damn world.” She settles in, letting her whole (considerable) weight press her soaked cunt down against your slightly open mouth. Your nose is left free to breathe; the Cowgirl isn’t looking for a knockout—domination is her one and only goal with this move.

You’re **** to endure her facesit for a few more seconds before the sound of the buzzer mercifully releases you. You’re finally able to stand up as Dinah’s humiliation attack bought your body some time to recover, but the help came at the cost of a lost round plus most of your remaining dignity—not a great trade, in your opinion.

When the Cowgirl turns back to face you, her flag-emblazoned panties are soaked clean through, and the wet cloth sticks to her labia, giving her a prominent cameltoe. She winks as she notices you staring. “I think you enjoyed that a mite more than you’re lettin’ on.”

You’ve lost a point for domination.